


Reparation

by thebasement_archivist



Category: The X-Files
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 1999-09-30
Updated: 1999-09-30
Packaged: 2018-11-20 19:21:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11341707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebasement_archivist/pseuds/thebasement_archivist
Summary: Krycek wants to make amends, but life has other plans. Circa "The Red and the Black" (spoilers included).





	Reparation

**Author's Note:**

> Note from alice ttlg, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Basement](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Basement), which moved to the AO3 to ensure the stories are always available and so that authors may have complete control of their own works. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in June 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [The Basement's collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thebasement/profile).

 

Reparation by Russianrat

Hi! I'd like to submit my latest story to ArchiveX. It's called "Reparation", and does include character death and lots of angst...  
Reparation - A Dream Snippet May 22, 1999 by Russianrat ()  
NC-17, M/K  
Archive: anywhere  
Disclaimer: they belong to Chris Carter, 1013, Fox, etc, etc  
Summary: Krycek wants to make amends, but life has other plans. Circa "The Red and the Black" (spoilers included).  
Author's note: This is actually based on a dream I had. My dreams aren't always pretty.  
Dedicated to Nonie, for more than she'll ever know.

* * *

Reparation  
by Russianrat

I know he won't believe me. Mulder's willing to follow any crazy story if it smacks of aliens or government conspiracies. Yet when it comes to me, the bastard tends to develop instant mental block. Can't say as I blame him. I haven't exactly been the model of upright citizenry.

This time I have to make him believe. The old man spoke the truth, we're all going to hell in a handbasket if people like Mulder don't go out there and fight the good fight. I, for one, never intend to play host to another alien invader.

Now I've got him where I've always wanted him, on the floor at my mercy. Sorry I had to use a gun to do it. My legs start to cramp from kneeling so long, which doesn't do much for my disposition.

"Krycek," he says, looking up at me with utter disdain. "You're a liar, a coward, and a murderer."

Gee, Mulder. Thanks for reminding me.

"Get up," I tell him, trying to keep my voice neutral.

When he's settled against the couch, I take a deep breath.

"I was sent by a man...a man who knows, as I do, that resistance is in our grasp." I deliver my speech with all the sincerity I can muster, but Mulder seems unfazed. "If the rebel dies, so does the resistance."

Damn. He's just staring at me. What do I do now?

On impulse, and maybe because I sense it's my last chance, I lean forward and brush my lips against his cheek. When I pull away, Mulder finally looks shocked. Against all my better instincts, I drop the gun on his lap. He glances at it, picks it up, fingers the trigger.

Then he sets it aside.

Without a word, he rises to his knees. It's my turn to be shocked as he puts his hand on the back of my neck and draws my lips to his.

"Alex," he whispers, so softly I'm not sure I've heard.

I'm trembling. I can't believe this is happening. Mulder's tongue darts into my mouth, and I moan. Incredible...the big, bad assassin becoming putty in this man's hands.

Hands. Mulder's touch at my left shoulder jolts me back to reality. He strips me of my leather jacket quickly, exploring the place where flesh and plastic meet. I blink once, hardly daring to look into his face. When I do, there is no pity there, only understanding and acceptance.

Something breaks inside my chest. My defenses crumble as we undress each other in a sudden frenzy to feel skin on skin. Gently, Mulder unhooks the prosthesis where my left arm used to be. The last barrier is down.

He presses me to the floor, his lips never leaving mine on the way. His right index finger traces a path from my cheek to my chin. How did my face get wet, I wonder?

I whimper as Mulder's long, slim fingers play across my nipples. My cock strains upwards on my belly, and his hands brush that, too, before moving away. He stills my protests with another kiss. Through half-closed eyes I watch him reach inside a desk drawer. He holds up a bottle of lube and a familiar foil packet, smiling.

Smart man. You can never tell what a rat might carry.

At this point, I no longer care what he thinks of me. All I can feel are his fingers anointing my ass with the lube, while my right hand twitches along the hardwood floor. It takes every ounce of willpower I possess not to grab myself. I want it to be Mulder who brings me the pleasure I crave.

Through the increasing roar of blood in my head I hear the snap of latex. Then Mulder is pulling my legs up over his shoulders. God, please, I can't stand this much longer.

For once, my worthless prayers are answered. Mulder sheathes himself in me so smoothly I know in that instant we were made for each other. He sets a steady pace, slow thrusts designed to prolong the enjoyment. Except that I am crazy hot for him and too close to the edge already. Without warning, my semen geysers onto both of us as I scream his name.

Mulder's smile turns to a grimace as the contractions of my anus sweep him into his own wild orgasm. He eases out of me, making me want to cry at the loss. I hear him dispose of the condom, and the shuffle of clothes being dragged across the floor. My eyelids are too heavy to lift, and I float, serene.

The sudden blow to my stomach wrenches my eyes open. Mulder, why did you hit me? I thought we were past that. Then I see that he is seated on the couch. A wisp of smoke curls lazily from the gun in his hand. My gun.

I raise my head with an effort. There is no pain, although my stunned brain tells me there should be, with all the blood flowing from the hole just beneath my ribcage. My vision wavers, yet I manage to stare back at Mulder. The "why" is wordless, as I can no longer speak.

"Did you really believe I would forgive you so easily, Krycek?" No emotion mars his usual flat monotone. "You owe me too much. My father. Scully's sister. Betrayal upon betrayal, Alex. You knew you'd have to pay for it eventually."

I didn't kill them, I try to explain through the black spots dancing in front of my eyes. But I no longer have the breath to argue. He wouldn't believe me anyway.

He never does.

END


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